


Weaklings

by ButterflyArrows



Category: Transformers (Unicron Trilogy), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Cybertron, Transformers: Energon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 07:29:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9591818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyArrows/pseuds/ButterflyArrows
Summary: In the time between Transformers: Energon's end and the beginning of Transformers: Cybertron, it was clear that Starscream got a personality shift. This story is a fictional retelling how the change came to be, and what he decided to do with it.





	

                             Starscream grew to hate the darkness.

             It may have been dubbed irrational, by those that didn’t know him too well. In fact, in for the few that were considered close friends, wouldn’t have understood his phobia. Darkness, in any quantity, could be home to various creatures, but that was not what his main concern about the substance was. If one was in darkness, most likely, they were also alone. When one was alone, then the only readily available company were their thoughts. That was the true thing Starscream was afraid of; his own thoughts. After being reborn, first by Alpha Q, Starscream was lucky enough to be free from the restraints of free thinking. Then of course, after the failed assassination of Megatron, there was the long and agonizing period of torment. Alone, with the voice of his former leader piling insult upon insult, was nearly too much for Starscream to bear. Then, in a surprising act of mercy, Megatron allowed to him to escape the misery. After the revealing darkness, the harsh and silence of the light was a relief. Starscream could then dutifully follow his leader, acting as the perfect second in command.  He was satisfied with his demise, if not practically pleased. Flying into a sun was not the most painless way to go, after all. But then, the universe decided not to make it so easy. Starscream wasn’t exactly sure how the sun did it, but Starscream’s processer was then freed from the hazy thoughts that had plagued it, letting him remember who he once was.

             The ground was cold, Starscream recalled, from his waking moments. Did the Well of Allsparks even have a solid ground? As his optics onlined, he then was forced to realize, he was once again robbed of seeing the Well. It was Cybertron, his home. The familiar sight of the twinkling stars, nearly made him forget the throbbing pain that tortured his frame. Gently touching his plating, his digits quickly retracted, upon feeling the burning hot metal. Turning his helm to one side, Starscream scrambled to stand, numb to the pain that coursed through his veins. Megatron’s faceplate was mere _inches_ away from his own. Taking a deep in-take, Starscream let out a sob. The feeling of what happened in the darkness, so long ago, came rushing back, all at once. There was nothing, it seemed, that Megatron did not know about him. All his secrets, his plans, his goals, his memories…it was ripped out of him, and dangled it front of him. The ordeal was a humiliating one, and now Starscream could remember every single horrific detail. The coldness of the space he was trapped in, the horrible feeling that something was behind him, the whispering voice grating on his every nerve. How he got there, was almost as bad as what happened while he was in that void. The horrible feeling of a dozen servos upon his frame was almost as revolting as the mech who held ownership of those servos. Just the memory of the experience brought an awful crawling sensation over Starscream, like ghostly Scraplets.

           The horror to watch Megatron lie so near, resounded deep inside Starscream. Bits and pieces of what happened before the sun were floating through Starscream’s thoughts, each one making him wince. The noise appeared to make Megatron slightly stir into the realm of conscious. Starscream had to think of a plan. For the first time, in a very long time, he was under no direct ruler. Not Alpha Q, nor Megatron himself, could directly order Starscream to do what they thought was best. This in itself was a good thing, but at the present moment, it was not a helpful thing. Being alone meant being weak, and Starscream simply couldn’t think of what to do, under such pressures. As the Decepticon lord began to arise from his slumbers, the helpless Seeker glanced around at his surroundings. There didn’t seem to be much around him, other than the mechanical, industrial air to the area. Maybe it was the Sonic Canyons, or the outskirts of Kaon. Whatever the place, there was no obvious advantage to the terrain. Glancing at his own frame, Starscream realized, the only option that was readily accessible was to simply flee. Transforming with care, Starscream easily took flight. 

         It seemed as if the mech had to bear the weight of every single care in the universe. His thoughts, free from anyone but himself, were heavy. _What should I do?_ He reflected to himself. _What can I do?_ The answer to the latter question was simple; not a lot. Being alone had its advantages, namely being that he was finally free to do whatever he would like. But, of course, the disadvantages were also numerous. Being alone meant no allies. No cannon fonder nearby meant the brunt of attacks would lay on him. There were no resources to being by oneself, other than ones thoughts, which in Starscream’s case, were just starting, very slowly, to become active. He flew lower, once he felt as if an appropriate amount of distance had been properly reached. Finally landing, Starscream looked about once again.

        Whatever industrial district he was in, was swiftly behind him. Instead of the barren landscape from before, the surroundings were now filled with buildings. Large and elegant buildings, coloured silver with rich coloured awnings that swung happily in the light breeze. _This must be Vos,_ Starscream realized. It wasn’t the most accepting of the cities Cybertron held. But, Starscream’s wings gave a twitch, that would not be a problem for him. Wandering through the streets, the Seeker could not help but notice the passerby. Clearly, in whatever time he had been consumed by the Sun, styles had changed. Rather than bright optic colours, such as his own green, citizens now held slightly duller tones. These were also mainly colours such as red or purple, rather than the blues he knew from the past. It was clear that, if Starscream wished to blend in, a new paint job and optic shift would be order. _But,_ he questioned, sitting on a public bench for a moment. _Is that really what I need to do?_ After all, it seemed that Megatron could recognize him no matter what form he took. There was no reason to try and hide from the tyrant; it would be merely futile. Still, it wouldn’t be a harm to spend a couple hundred credits to give it a go.

 _Credits!_ Starscream realized with a start. He didn’t have anything in his subspace, but would his already existing account still be valid? It had been quite some time after all, since he last checked his balance. Bravely standing, he moved swiftly through the crowds, to visit the nearest bank. It was worth a go after all. Upon entering the building, Starscream, after nodding a hello to a nearby clerk, busied himself with finding the answer to his question. Anxiously, he tapped the details for his account into a machine, which allowed him to serve himself. He let out a grateful ex-vent, upon seeing that his balance was at a stable amount. _Whatever my next plan is,_ Starscream thought to himself, nervously checking the building around him for the sight of Megatron. _At least I have some resources._ Exiting the bank, Starscream slipped back into the comforting crowd of Vos. It was always better to be with others, for the most part at least. If anything, they could prove to be useful camouflage. As he walked with the stream of pede-traffic, Starscream’s optics flitted from one bright sign to the next. A door opened to his right, and with it came the scent of sweet Energon treats.

        He paused, admiring the building façade of the bakery. Like the others in this part of Vos, it had graceful details, such as the patterns of vines, flowers and other aspects of organic flora and fauna. The sign was painted in a deep shade of blue, and on it with the Vosian dialect of Cybertronian, read the name of the business. “Gaudium Ex Fuga.” He murmured to himself. It had been a long time, since he spoke the language, but yet, the words came to him with such ease and poise. Thinking as a realist, Starscream knew he should receive fuel before he looked into changing his appearance. However, as he glanced at the still busy streets, the urge to put as much distance between him and Megatron was too strong. Going briskly onward, away from the bakery, Starscream narrowed his focus. Seeing as Seekers were highly fond of appearance, it was not difficult to find a store that would suit his cosmetic needs.

        Moving into the store, Starscream took a moment to look at what surrounded him. The store made use of all the space it was granted, while still maintaining the airy style that Vosians required. The colours were soft, the music in the background soothing. It made for an area that was clearly designed to be comforting.  Starscream made pleasant conversation with the mech he stood in line with. His thoughts were racing, yet he made care to disguise his tone as one of pleasure. It had to have been some time after he fled from Megatron. Maybe it would have been a better choice to have stayed with the older mech, as a protective shield of sorts. Then again, Starscream gave an involuntary shiver. It would have been much too difficult to try and speak while harbouring such an immense load of memory. In no time at all, it was his turn to approach the stylist, who was a slight short mech with fragile-looking wings, with a palette of light greens and yellows. “May I help you today?” The mech smiled pleasantly, hazel optics twinkling. _Everything in Vos seemed to be pleasant,_ Starscream thought to himself. _Is this really what Cybertronians are like now?_

         “I…have been wishing to change my appearance, for quite some time now.” Starscream spoke, tapping a digit on his leg. It was one of his habits he did while he was lying to someone. In this case, it really was more of a half-lie, but the incriminating tell still remained in place.

        “Lovely. I do wish that my services will assist you.” The mech said warmly, making Starscream’s spark tingle. In the past, delivering statements with such open compassion was a clear sign of hidden treachery. Starscream’s guard was up, but he forced himself to give a smile that matched that of the employee. He then led Starscream to another, smaller room. It was a far more private and intimate space, helped by the fact that he and the employee were the only ones in it. Starscream promptly began to search for various forms of exit. _The door was one, but that would be easily blocked,_ He thought, following the stylist to a chair. _Of course, the window could work, but the glass might cause an injury._ As Starscream, however uneasy, settled himself in the chair, awaiting further development, the employee busily got together materials. 

       “Do you like the space?” He asked, mixing together some sort of paste. “It’s my own, actually, if you wanted to know. Well, at least for the moment, that is. The mech that had it before me just got moved to another location, so I claimed it as the higher ups fought over it. Oh! How rude, I forgot to introduce myself. My apologies, um… “

      “Starscream.”

       “That’s a nice name.” The mech remarked. “I’m Emberart, myself. Aspiring stylist to the stars. Heh. Guess I’m getting pretty close, working with a mech with your type of name, huh?” Starscream appreciated the humour. It was the first time in a while that happened. The feeling was foreign, but yet felt rather…interesting. Feelings, thoughts, being independent…his processer was already beginning to ache from the pressure.

      “So!” Emberart finished his mixture and turned to smile, again, at his client. “What can I do for you, Starscream?”

      “Did we not already discuss this?” The mech asked curiously, helm taking on a slight tilt. It snapped back into its alignment, as Emberart delicately laughed.

      “Well, yes, I suppose we did, but I was referring to more exact details.” The designer went on to say. “For instance, is it a single colour you’re looking to change or more than one? Or do you want to change your frame type? And will optics also be alternated? As well, of course, the colour type would also be required for those.”

      Starscream grew embarrassed at his blunder. He was used to mistakes, sure, but those were made on the battlefield. Even then, he was far more skilled fighting Autobots than being a member of Cybertroian high society. “My financial situation isn’t one of vastness,” He said carefully, not wanting another mistake to be made.

      Folding his servos together, Emberart nodded thoughtfully. “In that case, I would recommend a change of your colour scheme, rather than a frame upgrade. Those can be quite costly, after all. An alternate optic style would be manageable as well, if that is something that you would wish.” At Starscream’s nod of approval, the beautician continued. “Would you like to inform me of any colour choice you may have?”

      “Anything that isn’t what I already have would be preferable,” Starscream said wittily, feeling strangely happy when Emberart laughed again. It was a musical laugh that would bring good memories…if Starscream had any memories that were considered pure.

      Emberart was clearly, well skilled at his chosen profession. He wasn’t fazed at Starscream asking for help in colour choices, which was a relief for the dubious Decepticon. Even when Emberart began the delicate work of recoding the optic, conversation flowed like newly processed Energon. “There!” The stylist said proudly, after giving Starscream’s newly painted frame a quick yet loving pat. “It looks great, if I do say so myself. Which I do, of course.”

       Cautiously standing, Starscream followed the exuberant mech to a nearby pane of glass to see his reflection. It was a start, seeing such bright colours on him, after being used to the dullness of his former appearance. The red, coupled with the bright blue accents, was daring and bold. Suitable for his forced new beginning of life. What really surprised Starscream, was the change in optics. He never thought much of the colour purple –although Megatron admired it greatly- but he did have to admit, it made for a fine pair of optics. “Thank you.” He said to the expectant Emberart. “I would have never done this if it were not for you.”

       “Oh, stop, you’re making me blush.” Emberart bashfully looked away, before offering a peck of a kiss on the side of Starscream’s faceplate. The action was an unselfish one, a kind exchange between strangers. Physical contact wasn’t frowned upon in the Decepticon chain of command, and Starscream had his fair share of it, but never was it considered kind. “I hate to be so crass,” Emberart carried on. “But we do need to discuss the matter of payment.”

      “Of course,” Starscream stammered, accepting the datapad offered to him. His digit shook as he tapped the banking information into the system, much to his own personal annoyance. _It was not a personal gesture,_ he scolded himself silently. _Don’t you dare take it as such a thing. You’ll never see him again anyway._

       Emberart accepted the datapad with another of his smiles. “Thank you! It was a pleasure working with you. Please do come again.” With a final wave, Starscream left the building, new paint job with him, along with a nearly completely empty credit account. Vain as it was, the newly adorned Seeker couldn’t help himself from admiring himself in every reflection he passed. The streets were emptier then, with many of the business’ awnings being taken down for the day. Passerby no longer strolled the streets with purpose; those that chose to walk did so with a distinct purpose. Perhaps they were returning home, to take care of sparklings, and meet back with bond partners. Not for the first time that day, Starscream felt a sense of longing harbour in his spark. It just didn’t seem fair. While the Autobots and Decepticons hopelessly tried to cease their fire, Cybertroians got all this luxury.  They fought on a strange planet, while so many others continued to rest on their home, their one and only home. _Why are you being so envious?_ Starscream thought to himself. _You never wanted this for yourself, after all. Or at least…you never got the right to make that choice._ Or maybe he had. The memories were still slowly coming back to him, after all. It was, however, difficult to imagine himself giving up the riches Cybertron offered, merely to become Megatron’s personal scapegoat.

       Whatever the reason, it was time to move on, the disgruntled Seeker decided.  At least for the moment, that is. Slipping in and out of a supply store, Starscream turned over some of his last remaining credits, in return for a handful of Energon cubes. He carried them in his subspace, as he took to the air, trying to find a place to rest. Settling for a secluded park, he nestled under a bridge, stacking his cubes around him. It was a makeshift shield of sorts, needed for his definition of a safe haven. Such places were non-existent…or at least, he thought before. Starscream tilted his helm back, drinking the last drops of Energon in the cube, wondering about that. It was true for the time he was on Earth, that was the case. No matter where he went, Megatron could always find him. The horrible feeling of being watched still plagued him, for the short time in the void of darkness he was forced to endure. Based on an impulsive yet traditional feeling, Starscream arranged himself to be that little bit smaller. The smaller he was, the less of a threat he was, and the less of a threat he was, the less Megatron would…discipline him. As Starscream began the process of going into his recharging state, his processer grew to become heavy, with all of the knowledge that had acclimated throughout the day. Finally for the first time in a long time, he could rest, knowing that Megatron would not be beside him when he woke up.

 

**

 

       Gradually awakening, Starscream stretched out his limbs, and then was startled when he hit metal. He became dizzy with the effort of trying to figure out where he was, and what he was doing. Seeing a new colour scheme on his frame was not helping the matter. Finally realizing that he was no longer in a Decepticon base, but instead under a bridge, Starscream sighed heavily. The mere effort to stand was too much to bear, so he continued to slouch, as he evaluated his options. “Let’s see,” He murmured, merely to hear a voice. “I have four cubes of Energon, and forty credits to my name. Oh, this will be just _fabulous.”_ The sarcasm in his tone startled him; it didn’t seem to fit in with what his self-image was. Yet again, he did say this was a new beginning. As the creeping sensation of self-doubt began to settle in, Starscream hastily decided to go for a walk.

      Disguising his Energon cubes under the shadow of the bridge, Starscream took a glance around the park. It was already bustling with Cybertroians, most of them Seekers of some sort. Sparklings ran around, tripping up their guardians, as couples tenderly held servos. In a general sense, the area was strong with the pungent odour of compassion. Needless to say, Starscream did not approve. Exiting the park, onto a main street, Starscream began to stroll. Keeping one optic out for Megatron, the Seeker found himself wrapped in the Vosian culture that was so enthralling. There was a sense of a light and carefree attitude to the city, the air sounding with the roar of engines from alt-modes soaring in the sky. It was a glorious city, and Starscream was drawn to it.

        On top of a slight hill, one of the most stunning buildings he had ever seen shone. It was large, with detailed columns surrounding it. Starscream chose to climb the stairs that were carved into the side of the hill, rather than to merely fly up to the top. Enjoying the scenery as he climbed was a pleasure; one of the most common things about the flying city of Vos, it seemed. From the top of the hill, which was the base for the massive monument, the sight was a spectacular one. Turning his attention to the building himself, Starscream found one of his digits delicately stroking a column. It appeared to be made of coloured glass, most likely imported in from Crystal City. Against his better judgements, Starscream simply needed to see what beauties the building could hold. He was not to be disappointed. The vast, cavernous like space was full of riches. Statues sparkled adorned with jewels, and at their pedestals, gifts of such luxury like vintage Energon laid. It was a temple dedicated to Primus, and his Primes, Starscream had concluded. Gazing at a remarkably plain statue, he recalled that it was one in the likeness of a Prime, Megatronus. The other Primes, each painfully engraved into stone, all were arranged in a semi-circle. The overall effect was one that couldn’t be redone.

      “Remarkable, isn’t it?” A voice echoed from all corners of the space. Turning around, Starscream saw a tall mech stroll towards him. Colours of dark green and a deep gray spread evenly over the stranger’s imposing, yet not threatening frame. “I always love when newcomers see the temple for the first time. Quite the scene, no?”

     “I’ve seen better,” Starscream lied, the snobby tone unknown to him. Maybe trying out a new, ruder tone wasn’t the best thing to do in a temple of Primus, Starscream realized, a bit too late. However, much to his relief, the unknown mech laughed.

    Clasping his servos behind his back as he roamed the room, the mech spoke. “I wouldn’t doubt it. I’m sure, although I, of course, have never been, that there is much beauty to be had on the planet Earth.” The name of the planet Starscream was forced to call home for so long, made his Energon seem to freeze in his veins. It was an awful planet, and the primary species that obtained it, were some of the most bothersome pests the universe had ever seen. Starscream had no urge to think of the place.

    “There’s no way you could have know that. How did you know that?” Starscream stammered, cursing himself for walking into a trap. The mech was clearly one of Megatron’s moles on Cybertron! The glimpse of a future, free from the tyrant, was fleeting, but Starscream never suspected that it would be taken from him so soon. His digit was tapping, double-time, on his leg as his optics flittered across the open room. There were many ways out, he could easily fly up and-

     “Don’t try to escape.” The mech said, as he laughed again. Much to Starscream’s surprise, the laugh wasn’t one with an overtone of malice, merely just kindness. “My name is Carterdralian. I merely serve Primus as one of his one of his agents, at this temple. I mean you no harm.”

     Starscream, not for the first time since he appeared on Cybertron, was embarrassed. Of course. It was not an attack, a bluff, nor a ploy. He was overly paranoid, and it had infected his newly reclaimed thoughts. “I’m sorry, Carterdralian.” Starscream’s tone didn’t excuse being rude, after all.

    “No harm was done,” The mech said. “And for your information, I didn’t know that. I merely thought I would take a guess. You seemed like quite the traveler, after all. So, let us start this conversation again, shall we?”

    Still cautious, Starscream nodded. “Very well. I am Starscream.”

    “Hello, Starscream.” Carterdralian smiled at the Seeker, who clearly appeared to be apprehensive in his presence. “Did you come for confession? Then, please follow me.” Briskly, the agent of Primus led the way, to a corridor. Starscream gave several more thoughts towards exiting, but, against his better judgement, he followed Carterdralian. A confession, although unknown in meaning, seemed like something to do before setting off on a new beginning, after all.

    It was a narrow, square shaped sort of room, with poor lighting. There was in it, merely a table, with a seat on either end of it. Carterdralian was already seated, and so Starscream took the empty seat for himself. “Now,” Carterdralian said, in a loud and commanding tone of voice, spreading his servos out on the table’s surface. “By the power within Primus, Cybertron’s true creator, I decree that anything and everything said here today will be shrouded in the shadow of confession. I, Carterdralian, now charge you, Starscream, to say what you wish to confess.”

    Heat rose upon Starscream’s faceplate. _Such formalities,_ he wondered. _All for a mere confession._ Deciding that it wasn’t going to be much of a bother, he began to speak. “In my…the past, I may have done things many would regret. And now, that I can properly remember what I had done, I do regret. I regret being used as a mere play thing by one whom couldn’t be trusted. I…regret being weak in my morals, and doing things which, had I a clear processer, I would not do. In short, I am here to confess that while I have been weak, it is no reason not to become stronger. I pledge to do whatever I can, to never been controlled again, by those who want to use me.” As he finished, his posture slouched, as the magnitude of his words came into focus. Resting his arms on the cool surface on the table, he rested his helm on his servos. Could it be done? Perhaps it could not. Perhaps his words were empty. Perhaps he would be offlined, without taking control of his own life. Regardless of his fears, Starscream’s spark felt just a touch lighter as he stood.

     “Well,” His voice grew restrained. “I have said my piece, and now I will take my leave. Thank you for listening.” As he left the small space, he felt Caterdralian’s optics burn into him. _Let him look._ Upon exiting, Starscream realized, without a guide, he was unable to find where the entrance to the temple was. With a groan of tiredness, he trudged off in one direction, hoping to retrace his steps. Instead of the exit, he found himself enter a small chamber instead.

     It was lit better then the room in which he had confessed, but it was roughly the same size as it. In the back of the room, there was a table, with various objects placed upon it. After checking to make sure Caterdralian was not yet following him, Starscream walked to the table, to examine it in further detail. The table appeared to be a dark metal, with a varnish that made the table seem to glow. Covered with a sheer gray cloth, on top of the stand, there were various objects. Starscream picked one up; a smooth spherical ball, delicately painted with blue veins, to represent Cybertron. “This is Primus’ altar,” The Seeker said softly to himself, placing the ball back onto the table. Clearly, the room was meant for a more personal approach to paying respects to the entity.

    With a deep sigh, Starscream crossed his arms. “Well, _Primus._ You certainly haven’t given me a deep sense of courage, now have you? What have you ever done to help me for a change? I’m alone, on a planet that, while it was once my home, is now foreign to me. I’m living in constant fear, plagued by the everlasting sense of despair.” Starscream slammed his servo down onto the table top, causing the ball to roll off, crashing on the floor. He did not flinch at the sound.

     “Look,” His tone was not even, but varied in inflection as his anger began to rise and fall. “Just give a sign, alright? Let me know what I’m in for here.” He picked up the fallen ball, and held it in his servo again. The weight was comforting, and Starscream felt a strong urge to take it. Slipping it into his subspace, Starscream exited the room. Confidently walking the wide halls, pedes clicking on the floor, Starscream ended up leaving the temple itself, without looking back.

    Forgoing the stairs, Starscream promptly transformed. His thoughts were pounding in a way that would only be smoothed by a good long flight. _Slag Primus,_ he thought bitterly to himself. _There is right now, no one that can help me but me. It’s up to me now._ Starscream gave some more time to think, as he swiftly dodged the other filers in Vos’ airspace. _I need a better, proper place to live, as well as a more steady Energon cube inventory. And of course, in order to get these things I would need to a source of credits._ The puzzle pieces clicked for Starscream, and he veered off-course, heading to the market district of Vos. Smoothly transforming mid-air as he did a nose dive, Starscream landed on the street, rather cleanly. He approached the first open business he spotted.

   “Hello,” Starscream spoke in the new voice he adopted for himself. It was one that was shrouded in an air of self-confidence, which hid every possible weakness he could show.  Directing his words to the employee that greeted him with an offer of help, Starscream spoke. “I was wondering if you were hiring at the moment…”

**

     Seventeen shops, restaurants, and reference centers later, Starscream was still without work. But, he was not discouraged. At the last business he went to, the clerk gave him a tip, instead of an outright rejection. “Perhaps you should visit the Royal Air Command,” The worker offered. “I heard there was some sort of scandal, and various openings came to be. The main location is really close by too. It’s just down the street, around the corner, and on the left side. You can’t miss it.”

     “Thank you,” The exhausted Seeker sighed with a sense of gratitude. “You don’t know what this will mean for me.” As Starscream exited the data archives, he heard the clerk mutter a saying of good fortune. Out in the midst of one of Vos’ more populated areas, Starscream found himself dutifully following both the crowd, and his given instructions. After turning the corner, he found himself gazing at the tall, powerful building. With its smooth curves and refractive material, it perfectly reflected the city street. It was the hive of Vos’ top activity; the cherished and elite, Air Command’s headquarters.  Starscream’s Cybertroian teachings helpfully reminded him that Vos and Tarn fought long and hard, over which city would claim the jewel of the Air Command. Vos, clearly won the battle, at the cost of losing the State Games. The precious Games, although a social advantage, was nothing in comparison to the might that the Cybertroian Air Command, and thus Vos, held. Shaking off the sense of history that plagued his systems, Starscream went into the building, with the confidence he began to admire.

     “Welcome,” The mech that served as the secretary spoke, helm slightly titled. Starscream felt the scan the secretary was no doubt performing for himself. _Wings: Check,_ Starscream thought, sarcastically. _Must be a Seeker then, thus worthy of entering._ Starscream also noticed, not without surprise, that the secretary himself appeared to be wingless, and instead sported wheels on his back. __They would let a non-Seeker work at the prestigious Air Command? Shocking.__ He was not immune to the prejudice that filled Vos; he merely benefited from the thing. _Maybe that’s why I like the city so much,_ he realized with a start. _There was no possible way Megatron would be considered superior to me here!_

    With that delightful thought, a natural smile placed itself on Starscream’s face plate. Walking closer to the desk where the mech sat, Starscream sat in the provided seat. “Hello,” He said politely to the secretary, who held a larger frame than most, painted with neutral beiges and browns. “I was wondering if I might be able to enquire a position here.”

    “Well,” The secretary said, tapping at one of his datapads. “Let me just get online to the system here…” Several agonizing minutes later, as the mech gave his name, (Overflight), job title, (Administrative Assistant), and position code, (08-RV6), Starscream tapped his digits on his crossed leg. His patience was waning, his Energon levels were dropping, and his hope was waning. _It was a pathetic dream after all,_ he sneered in mild spark-ache. _Nothing could have come out of it, after all._

    Just before Starscream was going to give up and crawl under his bridge never to be heard from again, Overflight gave a whoop of delight. “Oh!” He said, in response to Starscream’s startled expression. “I’m sorry about that. And the wait too, of course. But I fixed the glitch that was blocking me from entering. Now, would you like me to pull up that list of open positions?”

   “ _Please._ ”

               Surprised at the single, insistent word of reply, Overflight nodded. After a moment of searching, he successfully retrieved the file from the data tracks. Displaying it on his monitor, Overflight began to say the available positions at the Command. “Let’s see…we always do need more Maintenance bots around here...oh!” Overflight realized his blunder, and quickly went to correct it. “Not that you…no, a member of your prestige would never resort...I mean...oh, slag it. Sorry!”

               Quietly laughing, Starscream reached across the table, where Overflight’s helm was currently covered by his own servos. “It’s alright,” Starscream said, with a cautious air to his words. He was supposed to be adopting a more direct, ruder tone, but this mech just made him want to spout the kindest words he could ever utter. With his servo, he raised Overflight’s helm up, so the two mechs were in optic contact. “I don’t mind, really, I would accept any job offer I got, honest. Sorry if I seemed a bit…bothersome.” Overflight smiled, as a light blue blush, which nicely went with his optics, crept over his faceplate.

             “Thank you, sir!” Overflight said, after picking himself up. Resting his servo on the table to support his helm, Starscream smiled. The young mech was also an innocent one, whose naïve nature was refreshing. He then continued to check the list. “Um…how good at you at flying for performance?”

              Starscream blinked at the question; he didn’t realize such a thing would be a career. “I’m average,” He answered, stretching the truth just a bit. “It was something I was interested in.” That was not a direct lie; after all, it did sound interesting, even if also unknown.

             “Oh praise Primus!” The stressed secretary cheered again in triumph. “Heh. Sorry. Again. We just had one of our elite flyers group out of his flight group. Their demonstration, for the High Council, is rapidly approaching. If we don’t find another filer to take his place, the whole routine would be ruined, which would cause the High Council to halve our funding, which would result in smaller salaries, which would cause job loss, which would then cause fewer performances, and basically, we really, really, depend on this performance to go well.”

           “I…will do my best to perform the best I can, if I am entrusted with this position.” The warm response was exactly what the clearly overworked secretary wanted to hear. Jumping up from his seat, Overflight thanked Starscream, and then instructed him to go up one flight of stairs and knock on the second door on the right.

       “Ask for Aerial Strike,” Overflight urged. “And pray that she’s in a good mood today…” As Starscream thanked him, and made his way to the location, he couldn’t help wonder about the feminine pronouns, that Overflight had placed on Aerial Strike. Femmes weren’t particularly common, but they weren’t rare either. It had merely just been a while since Starscream could recall seeing one in his presence.

                      Making his servo into a fist, Starscream knocked gently at the forementioned door. “Enter!” A commanding voice summoned from within the chambers. Obeying the order, through the lingering insistent of being a soldier in the Decepticon legions, Starscream went into the room. Standing, facing the door, was Aerial Strike. A tall femme, with remarkable posture, stood proudly as Starscream closed the door. She did not have the thinness of a common femme, but rather had the same strong frame as a mech. Her orange and red colour choice easily matched her fiery red optics.

      “I am Aerial Strike.” Briskly crossing the room, she shook Starscream’s servo. “Are you the one they sent to refill the position left by Jetfire?”

      Starscream thought for a moment. He was given the name of the mech who’s spot he was supposed to fill, but he decided it might as well be Jetfire, whoever that may be. “Yes, I am.”

      Aerial Strike’s optics seemed to glow brighter as she realized the magnitude of the statement. “That’s great! What’s your flight level?”

      “My…excuse me?” He said, as he tried not to wince as Aerial Strike groaned with a significant amount of agony. “I’m not sure what you mean by that.”

      Hitting a button on her desk, Aerial Strike shouted into the microphone. “Overflight! Get up here, on the double!” As the femme drummed her digits on the desk as she waited, Starscream began to worry about her actions against Overflight.

     Once the secretary had entered the room, Aerial Strike made her thoughts vocal. Very, very vocal. “How could you sign up a complete amateur to replace _Jetfire?_ He was one of our best ones we got!” She all but shouted at the quaking mech. “My word, your name should be Oversight instead of Overflight!” After the outburst, Aerial Strike collapsed in her chair. As Overflight stated his apologies for the mistake, Starscream couldn’t help but feel indignant towards the femme. _She was a tyrant, or at least, the start of one._ He concluded for the moment. _What a first impression to make._

     “It was my fault,” Starscream said, cutting into the silence which had filled the room with an air as heavy as cyrogas. “I forgot to mention that to him. My mistake.” _Why am I taking the blame?_ He thought. _Might as well slap an Autobot logo on my wings._ He then briefly wondered why no one commented on his clear Decepticon status. Was it because of the high population of Decepticon followers in Vos, their polite society, or merely just ignorance?

      The line of thoughts was ceased, as Aerial Strike between the two mechs, clearly deciding who to trust the more. “Very well,” She concluded, accepting Starscream’s logic. “Overflight, you may leave. I apologize for the error.” Starscream hid his smile as Overflight tripped on the way out the door, prompting another round of apologizing.

      “Now then!” Aerial Strike clapped her servos, as she stood. “Since that…incident had been dealt with, I am afraid I have to give you a flight test. Nothing major, just a simple assessment. Nothing to be worrying about, I assure you! Follow me, please.” The sound of her pedes hitting the tiled floor was one that radiated power; Starscream fought a flinch after every time it was made. The walk was a short one, as their destination was near.

      It was a small courtyard, open to the sky. Scattered in the space were benches and other seating, meant for an easy chat among friends. “Transform please.” Aerial Strike said, and once Starscream promptly did so, she began her inspection. “Good, good,” She murmured, running a digit over his wing, making marks on her datapad. “Alright then. Please follow my commands.” She led him through a various set of exercises, many of which he remembered back from his flying classes, a long while ago.

        “And, transform again please.” Aerial Strike said, tucking her datapad back under her arm. “Very well done, Starscream. I’m sure you’ll be a valuable asset to the command. Please, allow me to show you where your group practices.” As her pedes began to click again, Starscream was full with a rush of emotion. He had passed! For once in his life-or at least, in the limited memories he recollected- he had passed something. On his own merit as well, without deceit, tricks, or other unlawful measures.

         Aerial Strike tapped a code on a keypad, causing a basic door to open. She walked in with a stride as prideful as a Prime. Clearly the one in command, she cleared her voice, causing the two mechs to jump to attention. Starscream took a moment to examine them both. Clearly, like many other Seekers, they were in the same frame group. One was ever so slightly taller than the other, however, clearly a defect in design. The one who was taller, was adorned in shades of purple, the shorter in hues of blues. They curiously glanced over Starscream, who had just began to feel grateful for his new paint job. _Thank you, Emberart,_ his thoughts practically sang as he stood to join Aerial Strike, as she introduced him.

         Starscream blinked, a bit startled. It appeared that one of the two mechs had simply vanished. As his confused processer tried to make sense of what happened, a digit reached out and tapped him softly. This only would not have gathered a large reaction, but once joined with a whispering voice saying the word “boo”, the overall effect was enough to tear nerves. Swinging out with a left hook, Starscream realized a moment too late, that the disappeared mech was the one that reappeared behind him. The prankster simply disappeared again, causing Starscream’s hit to graze the side of Aerial Strike’s faceplate.

         A moment of silence swept over the room, as the incident had rendered the four Cybertroains in the room mute. Well, all except one key purple mech.  “That was great!” He cackled, the laugh echoing off the bare walls. “Oh, I couldn’t have done that any better. Don’t you think so, Thundercracker?” The smaller of the pair gave a small whistle, avoiding optic contact with everyone except the floor.

         With an exasperated sigh, Aerial Strike regained her posture and spoke with a high level of dignity. “Skywarp, come by my office after training. It appears that we need to have a little talk about that raise you asked me about the other day.” Seeing the mech balk at her words, she gave a little smile. “Now that matter is dealt with, I’m assured that everything will be alright? Delightful.” On her final, sharply delivered word, Aerial Strike left the room. The door closed behind her with a decisive _click._

“Killjoy,” Skywarp all but hissed, and soon went to rest on a couch tucked into a nook in the corner of the large space. Testing his slightly sore servo for injuries, Starscream couldn’t resist a slight smirk. It had felt good to attack something again, he couldn’t deny that. The main cause for his jubilation was the act of disgracing someone that deserved it. _I was wondering when I would meet someone belonging to the classical Seeker mold._ Starscream’s thoughts sneered.

         Thundercracker nervously coughed, shrinking back ever so slightly as Starscream glanced in his direction. “Uh, well howdy there. Don’t you mind ol’ Warpie. He just has his gears in a twist, ever since Jetfire left a while back. Poor thing.”

         Raising an optic ridge at the strange accent that was spread over the mech’s words, Starscream nodded. “Well noticed. Who was Jetfire, anyway?” on the surface, Starscream deduced his curiosity was merely for the reason that Jetfire was to be replaced by himself. However, as he thought about it more, he came to the conclusion that he really just talk about someone else, behind their back.

         “Aw shucks,” As he said with a sigh, Thundercracker nervously wrung his servos. “Do you really need to know about it? I guess you better, huh…There isn’t that much to tell. He was one of the members of our flying team, said he wouldn’t drop out for nothin’. Everyone else drifted away-new jobs, sparklings, that sorta thing-, but Jetfire was there for us, no matter what. When it was just him, me, and Warpie, Jet began to act...differently, I guess. Sorta like a duck out of the water. Then, we got up one day, and Jetfire was just gone.” Starscream pondered the new information, shifting through the strange phrases that were used. Condensing what was said, he realized that whoever this Jetfire was, he was not behaving normally. Clearly, something had to have happened. What exactly that was, would have to wait for another time.

         As Thundercracker was speaking, and after that, when Starscream was thinking, Skywarp had joined them. _He’s quiet, I’ll grant him that,_ Starscream thought, sizing up the younger Seeker. _I wonder what else he could do._ “What are you looking at?” Skywarp snapped in a tone that made Starscream want to flinch. “What offlined planet did you crawl off, anyway?” Thundercracker murmured something into the taller mech’s auditory sensor, Starscream noticed, something to calm the nerves.

         “Fine, but just until after the show, you hear? “ Skywarp said shortly. At Thundercracker’s nod of approval, Skywarp sighed and crossed his arms. “Well, newbie, what you lack in looks, you better make up for in performance. Now that Jetfire’s off doing Primus knows what; I’m captain of this team. So, either you follow my direction, or you’re out too!”

         Starscream’s optics narrowed. Such a statement never required a vocal reaction, after all. Surely enough, Skywarp didn’t elaborate any further, and instead chose to transform. Dutifully, both Starscream and Thundercracker followed the unspoken instructions that were made so clear. A long time was spent going over and over again, the routine that was made to show the High Council in a mere two solar cycles. Starscream’s processer was dizzy with the sudden new information. The performance was a degrading thing, merely showing off like puppets, but it was something that had to be done. Without the security the position gave, Starscream would be at a loss of epic proportions. As he twisted in ways that he rarely twisted before, he distractedly wondered what happened to Megatron. _Would he, upon waking up alone, think about me?_ Starscream contemplated, as he performed aerial moves, stunts, and displays, all of which were foreign to his frame. _He would assume I’ve been vaporized by the sun’s energy, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t bother looking for me, I couldn’t be_ that _important._ As the trio landed, Starscream was filled with the sense of dread. After all, Megatron had found him before, time and time again. What would make this so different? Shaking himself out of the heavy mindset, Starscream focused in on what Thundercracker was saying to him.

         “Whew, that was a tiring one,” The blue mech drawled, giving Starscream a playful slap on the arm. “Golly. I’m tuckered out, for sure. Say, are you going to be staying with us? The place ain’t pretty, but eh, it’s nearby.”

         “I wasn’t aware that the Air Command would provide employees with accommodations,” Starscream said, mostly to himself. It surely would solve his own present living issues, but he was not particularly fond of the idea of being in such close quarters with near strangers.

         Skywarp noted Starscream’s hesitation, and with a loud snort to draw attention, spoke confidently. “Oh grow a tail-pipe, you glitch. We’re not going to rip your spark out and feed to the spark eaters we keep downstairs!” With a blink at the colourful metaphor, Starscream nodded, accepting the request.

         “Could you transmit the location to me?” Starscream asked the mechs. “I just have some loose ends to tie, before I can meet you there.” Thundercracker obliged the request, and dragged Skywarp out the door, giving Starscream for the first time since he entered, the chance to be alone. With a deep and heavy sigh, the tired Seeker slumped against a wall. Closing his optics, he reflected over the events that had followed him. After recounting his adventures Starscream officially declared himself to be in one of the worst tight spots he had ever been in. While still not having a complete grasp of himself, or his past, he had signed up for the Air Command, made arrangements to live with two mechs he know next to nothing about, and basically made a series of awful blunders.

         “It can’t get worse,” he said, words echoing across the empty room. “It just can’t possibly get any worse than this.” As Starscream was thinking about how he might have sealed his own doom by saying those words, he received a transmission, from an unknown comm frequency.  As soon as he did so, he regretted it.

         :I know you’re online, Starscream. I will find out where you’re hiding. And I will not rest until I have made you regret what you have done.:

         It was over just as quickly as it began. Starscream’s frame crumpled from under him, sending him falling to the floor. Digging his digits into the ground, he tried desperately to control himself. That voice was one that taunted him for ages. The one that taunted him from a blanket of darkness. The one that could change him, made him do anything. The one that wasn’t supposed to be able to find him, let alone talk to him so directly. The facts were clear, and try as he might, Starscream could not avoid the truth. Megatron had found him-or nearly found him- again. As his exhausted frame shook from all that happened, in such a short period of time, he blindly grasped for something to hold onto. Something to exert some pressure into. He was not sure how long he curled his digits around a datapad, wondering what he possibly could do. Starscream let the datapad fall from his grip, as he realized he had another choice to make. He could lie there, on the floor of a training room at the Air Command. He could also make it all end, considering his weapons training. He could go crawling back to Megatron, accepting whatever punishments just for Megatron’s ultimate protection and safety. But, as Starscream stared blankly at a stain on an opposite wall, he really couldn’t do anything of those things. For, if he did, than Megatron would have won again. Henceforth, if there was one thing Starscream could be sure of, he was tired of Megatron winning.

         Starscream picked up the datapad, held it close, and stood up. After carefully and tenderly placing the datapad on a shelf, Starscream exited the room. He was numb to all that he passed, ignoring Overflight’s cheerful farewell as he exited the building. Taking flight automatically upon leaving,  Starscream travelled to the one place he could say he had possessions in. Slipping under the bridge, he felt a faint pang of relief when he saw the remaining four cubes of Energon still hidden. After putting them inside his subspace for safe keeping, Starscream ran his servo over the smooth texture of the bridge’s underside. Closing his optics again as he touched the metal, Starscream took a deep intake before transforming again.

         The next time he landed, it was at the place that Thundercracker had so kindly transmitted to him. Glancing around, Starscream noted that the apartment, though in one of the shabby Vosian neighbourhoods, was in a relative good space. Carefully taking the Energon cubes out of his subspace, Starscream carried them under his arm, as he walked to the main door.  After scanning a list of residents, Starscream walked to the correct room number. He noticed that Jetfire’s name was still attached to Thundercracker’s and Skywarp’s. _He really must have left in a hurry,_ Starscream realized. He clenched his servo in a fist, and after a moment or two of wondering if it was the correct action, he knocked. Then, once Skywarp promptly answered and opened the door, Starscream stepped inside, ready for whatever met him.

         He didn’t expect to be knocked over by an excited turbo-fox.  Sputtering from a combination of surprise and shock, Starscream was dumbfounded by the wiggling mass that was on his chassis. A low laugh began to bubble up from deep inside him. Shaking silently, Starscream tried to figure out where his life went so wrong. Here he was, in a place he didn’t know, in one of the most vulnerable positions he could possibly get into. Starscream was lying there for a brief moment, until suddenly the weight that pressing against him was lifted off.

         “Bad Nebula! Sorry ‘bout that, Starscream. Still trying to train him, you see.” Thundercracker’s accented voice drifted through the air.  He reached down a servo, presumably to try and help Starscream get to an upright position. Rejecting the offer, Starscream stood up by himself, and began to regain his bearings. Skywarp appeared beside him, holding the small turbo-fox whose tail was still wagging. The smirk on the purple mech’s faceplate would have been visible from across the planet. With three, not so tiny, mechs standing together, the hallway was obviously cramped.

         Clearing his voice, Starscream nodded to Nebula, the turbo-fox. “He’s…charming, isn’t he?” Skywarp rolled his optics at the statement, clearly a common trait for him, and set Nebula down on the floor. As Nebula excitedly weaved in between the mechs’ legs, Thundercracker smiled softly.

         “I know, he needs a bit of work, but I couldn’t help but adopt him.” Snapping out of the dreamy state he was in, Thundercracker grinned more broadly. “Well, enough of that. Please, come in! It ain’t much, but as they say, it’s home.” Leaving Skywarp to deal with the fallen Energon cubes, both Thundercracker and Starscream walked deeper into the apartment. Although the space was not very large, it still was one that held an essence of personality. Upon exiting the narrow entranceway, it opened up into a slightly larger area. It was meant mainly, for relaxation and consumption, if the holoscreen in a corner and empty Energon cubes littered about, were to be of any hint.

         “Well, it’s pretty basic, I know, but hey, who’s to say the best rodeo has to be the biggest, eh?” Thundercracker laughed, and after a moment, Starscream joined in. He made a mental note to decipher whatever language it was his companion was speaking. Thundercracker proceeded to walk Starscream through the layout of the main area, explaining what one needed to do to get the Energon convertor to work, (give it a kick and if that doesn’t work, punch it), and basically taught him what was essential to living in the apartment.

         “And, here’s the berth-room. I really hope you don’t mind sharing it with two mech’s and a turbo-fox!” Thundercracker said with a laugh, sitting on one of the three berths in the room. “Don’t worry, there’s a good lock. Ain’t that right, Warpie?” Skywarp, or rather “Warpie”, who was sitting on the berth beside Thundercracker’s merely grunted in reply. As Thundercracker feebly attempted to engage his friend in conversation, Starscream took a look around. The three narrow berths took up most of the room, but there was a desk of sorts, shoved into one corner. With a heavy sigh, Starscream carefully pushed Nebula to the side of the empty berth, so he could sit. Stretching out his weary limbs, Starscream briefly thought of recharging for a bit. Absently petting Nebula, who whuffled happily, he could feel himself starting to become drowsy. The creature’s neon green optics were vaguely haunting in a way. _I will not compare myself to a turbo-fox, of all things._ Starscream’s thoughts were chagrined. _I cannot stoop to such a level. I don’t even_ like _turbo-foxes._ While his thoughts were fuming silently, Nebula padded over, and sat. Starscream looked down to see that pair of bright green optics staring up at him. Spark warmed ever so slightly, he carefully reached down a servo near the beast. Nebula sniffed it and began to lick it, with a hint of nibbling. For the second time that solar-cycle, Starscream found himself laughing at the energetic turbo-fox. The pleasant feeling of doing absolutely nothing was one of pleasure, and an emotion Starscream had little to no memory of feeling before.   

         “Aw!” Thundercracker finally glanced over at his new team-mate. “Nebula likes you. Y’all are gonna get along just fine, I’m sure. Dontcha argee, Warpie?” With a loud heave of sigh, Skywarp begrudgingly nodded. Nebula gave a happy whine of approval and Starscream gently patted him. The trio was quiet for a bit, and the turbo-fox basked in the attention he was getting.

         “This is boring,” Skywarp said suddenly, sitting up. “We should do something exciting.”

         At this notion, Thundercracker nodded, and even clapped his servos a bit. “Oh! There’s apparently this great new program all about organic planets that I really want to see! All about their plants and ecosystems…really thrilling stuff.”

         Skywarp and Starscream both groaned at the suggestion, one externally, and the other internally. “TC, that’s more boring than…something else really boring!” Skywarp complained loudly in such a whiny tone of voice, it made Starscream want to punch him. But since Nebula was now recharging, Starscream didn’t move from his spot.

         “Oh.” Thundercracker couldn’t hide his disappointment but tried to make up for it with a smile. “Aight. It waited this long, it can wait a bit longer.  I can watch later. Warpie, what do you want to do then?”

         Pleased that he was about to get his way, Skywarp bounced a bit, before explaining his plan. “Well, at work the other day, I heard that the new bar around here just opened. I was thinking we could stop by, screw around a little, have a toast to our newest member…” As both he and Thundercracker began to talk in more detail about their plans, Nebula decided to hop off the berth. A bit miffed at the turbo-fox, Starscream began to make up an excuse as to get out of the group’s plans. _I can’t go to a bar,_ he picked a flaking piece of paint of his plating as he thought some more. _It’s too public. No doubt Megatron-or one of his agents-could easily spot me there._ Starscream looked at the paint chips that now littered the ground. He had forgotten about his new appearance. Surely, that could be a bit of a comfort to him. So, when Skywarp confirmed the plans with him, Starscream said he would love to go to the bar with them. _It could be fun after all,_ He encouraged himself, as they got ready to leave. _A new look, a new city, a new me. Megatron will not spoil this for me. He can’t._

 

**

 

         The positive point of view of Starscream’s left his processer the second the trio exited the apartment. _What was I thinking?_ He thought in a panic as Skywarp led the way to the bar. _I can’t do this by myself! I’m too weak for this right now. Is it too late to go back to the way things were?_ Sure, things weren’t exactly great before, but they weren’t half-bad either. However, Starscream’s choice was made, when Thundercracker linked arms with him, and Skywarp.

         “Ain’t this fun?” Thundercracker said excitedly to his two friends, one newer than the other. “We’re going to be the belles of the ball, I’m sure.”

         Skywarp, again, chose to roll his optics. “Sure. Two mechs and a bucket of bolts. Forget belles, we’re going to be the best thing that ever happened to this Primus forsaken city.”

         Unable to resist the chance for a dig, Starscream looked over at the purple mech and replied with a line he thought to be rather excellent. “Really, Skywarp, I never knew you thought so highly of yourself. If I were to describe you, the words “walking scrap heap” would come to processer.” Thundercracker hooted at the reply, as Skywarp sputtered in annoyance. Starscream felt as if he was glowing; it wasn’t often he dished it out, instead of taking it. The past thoughts of uncertainty were gone. If he was to be captured by Megatron, which he surely will be soon, maybe it wasn’t too bad to enjoy some pleasures beforehand.  With the thought came a sense of lightness.

         “Well,” Skywarp coughed, still recoiling from the burn he had received. “We’re here at least. The Dyr Republica, one of the hottest spots in Vos. Please, Thundercracker, this time, do not try to flirt with someone by comparing their digits to the denta of a cyberhound. If it didn’t work the past dozen times, which it didn’t, it will not work now.” With a huff of disgruntlement, along with a smile, Thundercracker sailed into the bar, suddenly becoming the leader of the three.  “So much for, all for one and one for all.” Skywarp muttered to himself before forcing himself into the bar as well. Starscream took a moment to admire the scenery before entering. This section of Vos, not too far from their apartment, was hopping with all sorts of mechs, femmes, and everyone else, all going and coming from their own sources of nightly entrainment. With a calming intake, Starscream slipped inside the bar behind his two allies.

         It was crowded, but not as crowded as it could be. Likewise, the music was loud, but also, not as loud as it could have been. Scanning the room, Starscream realized he couldn’t see either Skywarp or Thundercracker in the densely packed space. With a sigh of tiredness, Starscream picked his way through, to order a drink. He bumped into someone sitting at the bar, and as he turned to apologize, he realized he knew the mech. “Oh, hello Overflight. I didn’t see you ther-“

         “Oh, _now_ you say hello!” The gruff voice did not come from the pleasant, if a bit disorganized, secretary. Instead, it came from behind Starscream. When he turned to look at the voice’s owner, his face-plate nearly smashed into the stranger’s chassis. It was only when the stranger circled around, to put a protective arm around the seated Overflight, that Starscream could examine the one that spoke so sharply. In a word, the mech was large. More specifically, he was powerful looking. The points of his wings just barely peeped over his large shoulders, after all. Optics drifting down to the mech’s cod piece, Starscream noted that the mech probably wouldn’t be too bad to have around in the berth either. In the dim lighting of the bar, it was hard to pinpoint what colours the mech adorned his frame with, but Starscream could vaguely deduce the majority of it was a deep plum, with dark brown accents along with a pair of navy blue optics. It was a striking appearance; especially combined the mech’s overpowering physique.

         “Turbine,” Overflight revealed the stranger’s name. “I told you before, it’s alright. Starscream, this is my mechfriend. He works in the Air Command with us.”

         “A pleasure, I’m sure.” Starscream offered up a servo to shake, a gesture that got slapped away. As he rubbed it-it was a powerful slap after all- Overflight yanked on Turbine’s arm, and the two mechs had an angry, whispered, conversation. Starscream couldn’t help but wonder how they could have ever met, and fall in love. Their personalities didn’t seem to mesh so much as clash. But alas, somehow they got along, and together. With a sigh, Starscream traced designs in a spill on the counter. Hearing someone clear their voice, he jerked to attention, quickly wiping away the signs of weakness.

         “Hey, I just wanted to apologize.” Turbine glanced to Overflight for reassurance, and seemed to be put at ease when his beloved gave him a quick smile. “It’s just...I saw that you didn’t stop to say goodbye today, and well, when Overflight is upset, it makes me upset, you know?” Faking a nod of understanding, Starscream secretly was in a state of disbelief. _Seriously? After eons of all that I did, I get called out on not saying goodbye to someone?_  With a slight chuckle, Starscream paused to reflect on how ludicrous the situation was.

         “Thank you,” He spoke after a moment, his words cutting through any lingering, remaining lines of tension. “I must ask you, Turbine, how can you possibly fly?”

         Turbine took another moment to reply, and in said moment Starscream debated whether or not it was an odd thing to ask. Truth be told, he was just curious, not trying to be insulting. Finally, he was given an answer in the form of a hearty chuckle. “I like you!” Turbine announced.  “You got spunk, that’s for sure. And to answer your question, you’ll just have to wait until the flight performance for the High Council. We’ll see then, I’m sure.” As the two began a conversation about different routines, and stretching habits, Starscream couldn’t help but notice that Overflight was looking rather put out. In a fit of mercy, he decided to toss the poor grounder a bone.

         “I forgot to say thank you,” He swiftly changed the topic, and made direct optic contact with Overflight. “That job you got me was the chance I’ve been looking for a while now. I really appreciate it.”

         “Oh!” The plain mech’s faceplate lit up as his actions were acknowledged. “It’s no problem, just part of my job. But, you’re welcome all the same.”

         Turbine was clearly prideful of his mechfriend’s accomplishments. “You’ve come full circle, babe! I helped you, and now you helped someone else. You’re the light of my life, that’s for sure.” Starscream stayed to the side during this romantic display of affection, and merely put the pieces of the puzzle together. _So that’s how Overflight got his position,_ he realized. _Through Turbine’s connections._ It made sense. After all, there was no way that a grounder of all mechs would be able to receive a spot at the Air Command, no matter how nice the mech or menial the profession. As the couple began to get a bit too personal for Starscream, he excused himself, after taking the drink of highgrade that Turbine bought for him.

         Sitting at a lonely table in the corner of the bar, Starscream enjoyed the solitary. It was pleasant enough, conversing with other Cybertronians, but he was growing to like being alone just as much, if not more. He drummed his digits on the tiled and slightly sticky surface of the table, not thinking about anything in particular. Glancing about, he still couldn’t find his colleagues or anyone that he recognized in passing. He did, however, obverse the actions of a clearly tipsy femme, presently flirting with a group of mechs, who didn’t seem all that interested. Starscream watched the group in a dazed sort of way, taking a sip from his drink every now and then. The femme wasn’t exactly his type, but she was pretty, in an interesting sort of way. Her helm was mostly sliver coloured, and decorated with armour that reminded him of a crown. The only colour in her faceplate was her gold optics, which appeared to Starscream, as greedy as can be. A collection of fine features clustered in her frame, but the most striking one would be her legs. Starting at the top of thigh with a bright yellow, the colour changed to a rich purple at the knee.  Her pedes topped, or bottomed, it off with a graceful heel.  Soon enough, the mechs left the bar, leaving the femme to her own devices. Not seeming to be bothered by her sudden lack of an audience, the femme just simply looked for another one. Which just so happened to be Starscream.

         “Hey you,” She purred as she helped herself to the empty seat across from him. “Who are you doing tonight?” Starscream desperately hoped that she made a mistake, and meant w _hat_ he was doing, but he sensed that she was fully aware of what she was saying. As he stammered out words that didn’t make a complete sentence, she laughed. Dipping one digit into his drink, she gazed into his optics, as she proceeded to lick the liquid off. This action, unfortunately, led Starscream to recall Nebula, which in turn led him to mask his laugh with a coughing fit.

         After a few more awkward sentences, small talk on his end and sexual pick up lines on hers, the unknown femme seemed to doze off. Starscream looked helplessly on, as a femme that he didn’t even know the name of, recharged openly. He wasn’t exactly sure what move he should take. Just as, in his mental debate, the option of finding his roommates and leaving the bar was winning, a waiter came by. This waiter wasn’t the one that served Starscream his high grade, but he did have a vague memory of seeing him around before. With thick thighs, waist and chassis, the mech wasn’t as buff as Turbine, but he was far from slim. He had a pair of gleaming blue optics, completing the light yellow which is what accented the deep maroon colour of his frame. “Sorry about this,” The waiter said with a sigh, gesturing to the resting femme. “It wasn’t your conversational skills, don’t worry. She-I don’t even remember her name- comes in every now and then, and gets positively hammered, and abruptly goes into recharge. A right pain she is. Luckily, she also lives nearby.”

         Starscream looked on, as the waiter struggled to lift the femme out of her seat. A rush of heat rose to his faceplate, and he desperately hoped that it didn’t show. “Here, let me help you.” Before the mech could protest, Starscream scooped up the recharging femme’s legs. With a nod of appreciation, the waiter led the way to the door, politely asking the dancing crowd to part. Starscream wasn’t exactly sure why his spark seemed to be fluttering, but he ignored the feeling and focused on not suddenly dropping the femme. It seemed easier to move once they got outside. The streets weren’t as crowded as the bar, and there were less optics to watch them curiously.

         “I’m Solenoid by the way!” The waiter said cheerfully. “I would shake your servo, but I got them full of femme right at the moment.”

         “What a coincidence, so are mine.”  The pair laughed at Starscream’s weak attempt at a joke, as they navigated the quiet streets of Vos. “I’m new to the city though,” he continued, trying to avoid the few citizens still out and about.

         “It’s nice to meet you, I’m New To The City Though.”

         “Oh!” Starscream’s mistake just registered, but Solenoid’s laugh made him not regret it as much as he would normally. “Sorry. I’m Starscream though.” They walked without speaking for a moment, relishing in the sounds of the city, and the chatter of passing Cybertronians. If Starscream could have, he would have tapped a digit on his leg. Solenoid was making him nervous, and the small comfort was craved.

         As they were walking through the streets, holding onto the femme, someone stopped them. “Copperclasp, badge code 67FG-L3B.” The mech, who Starscream realized was a police officer, folded his arms over his chassis. “Just what do you two think you’re doing with that citizen?”

         “Copperclasp, was it?” Solenoid asked, nodding his helm. “Right. You see, our friend here just had a little too much to drink, so we’re taking her back home. Is that against the law, officer?” Starscream was about to let out a laugh, when he realized that wasn’t the best action to make.

         Prodding the femme with his stylus, Copperclasp made a few notes on the datapad he was holding. “It is not, I can assure you. Now, would you two be needing a police escort?”

         “I think we can manage, Copperclasp. You have a good night there.” Solenoid tossed the mech a wink.

         Copperclasp held up a servo. “Don’t push it. Please leave the area without hesitation.” Stifling their giggles, Starscream, the femme, and Solenoid quickly left the officer to carry on with his patrol.

         Before long, they arrived at a tall apartment building, that would very similar to the one that provided Starscream housing. “Here we be.” Solenoid said, pushing the button to open the door with his hip. _His very, very, very nice looking hip. Quite smooth._ Starscream shook his helm, quickly trying to dispel the thoughts his processer was trying to make him think. Those thoughts didn’t have much time to bloom, because the door was answered quite promptly.

         “Ah, Solenoid. I see she did it again, huh? Let me take her off your servos.” Due the angle he, the door, and the mech that answered the door were at, Starscream couldn’t get a proper glance at whoever was speaking. After Solenoid made a bit of small talk, the owner of the building took the femme, and closed the door.

         The two mechs took their time getting back to the bar. “Do you like your job?” Starscream asked, mostly to fill the quiet air that was growing between them.

         “Just as much as you would like any job I suppose.” Solenoid shrugged. “It pays my rent, and I even get a cube of Energon every now and then. Providing that my tuition is low enough, of course.”

         “You’re a student!” Starscream, somewhere deep in his memory, was excited by this fact, although he couldn’t really place why.

         Solenoid gave him a lopsided grin. “Yep. Crystal City’s finest science academy, space-bridge division. It’s my dream to try and restore those relationships Cybertron used to have, back in the Golden Ages.” At those simply put sentences, Starscream’s spark nearly stopped. It had unlocked something that was hidden from him for quite a long time.

         “I…that…” He looked at Solenoid’s curious expression. “That was my dream as well. I’m an alumni of the Crystal City Academy of Science, in the same field of study.” _Science!_ He thought to himself, more excited than ever. _I studied science! I liked it too! I know the difference between a carbon ion diffibulator and a steel magnetic diffibulator!_   _Why did they stop using molten Energon to power the convertors needed to operate a space-bridge? Because it was too costly, left too much residue and wasn’t effective! I wanted to unite Cybertron._ Starscream’s thoughts became suddenly more somber. _And Megatron said he could help me achieve it. That’s why I did it, and gave up everything I had for him and his causes._

Solenoid’s already wide optics grew even wider as the words sunk in. “Oh wow, how lucky! Are you an engineer now? Or maybe an inventor? I personally want to become a sort of diplomat scholar hybrid, if you know what I mean. Primus! This is amazing. Am I talking too much? I never really met someone that had goals so close to mine!”

         Letting their laughs soar into the night, the two mechs eagerly discussed their shared favorite topics. Once they got the bar, Solenoid poured drinks while chatting with Starscream about his idols, (mostly authors and teachers), his relationship status, (single), and how many sparklings he wanted, (three to five). Starscream let the pleasant conversation wash over him, as it left him feeling just as refreshed as an oil bath would. Slowly though, throughout their long talk, the crowd at the bar began to thin. As Solenoid was lamenting about how he wanted to break into the acting field, but never had enough courage, Thundercracker and Skywarp showed up. After a round of introductions and drinks, the group reculently had to realize that it was getting rather late, and they should probably leave. “We’ll wait for ya outside, alright?” Thundercracker whispered to Starscream before leaving.

         “Well,” Solenoid rested on the bar. “This was one interesting evening…with an interesting mech.” He reached across the counter to grasp Starscream’s servo. “Thank you,” He continued, optics not leaving the subject of his affections. “For understanding, and listening.”

         “There was nothing I would have wanted to do more,” Starscream said, completely truthful. It was then, Solenoid’s derma brushed against his own, and they shared a small moment of pure peace. Breaking apart, they shared comm frequencies, and once Starscream exited the bar, he had to fight the urge to go running back to Solenoid’s embrace.

         Starscream walked home, or the closest to home he would have. Lagging behind Skywarp and Thundercracker, he dreamily thought of what was to come. “What’s up with him?” He could hear Skywarp not so quietly whisper.

         “Look at those optics. He’s in love.”

         Not sure if Thundercracker’s statement was true, Starscream rubbed his still tingly servo, and hope he could meet Solenoid again. In his heavy spark however, he knew he would not. When they returned to their living accommodations, mumbles of sweet dreams were uttered, before they slipped into their respective berths. Skywarp and Thundercracker slipped into a deep recharging state quickly, but Starscream waited for a moment. He listened to Nebula’s whuffling, and quietly exited the room. Finding himself outside, on the apartment’s small balcony, he looked over at the city. Considering its location, the spot gave way to an impressive view. The Air Command’s headquarters were visible, the graceful lines of the building arching across the sky. Resting on the railing, Starscream looked out at the landscape. _He’s out there,_ a thought whispered. Whether the “he” in the thought was referring to Megatron or Solenoid, was unclear. Starscream closed his optics for a moment, listening to the sounds from the other apartments. Many windows were open, and stanches of noise were floating outside. There was the quiet sound of music being played, the passionate, delightful symphony that came with lovemaking, someone reading a story to their loved one. Starscream was feeling alone, listening to these sounds of interaction. Reaching deep inside his subspace, he lifted out the ball, that he took from the Temple of Primus. It was a comforting weight, but it was nothing compared to the warmth of Solenoid’s servo. Sighing, Starscream put the ball back within the realms of subspace. He was destined to be alone, in the romantic sphere of things. This was of course, better when in the middle of a war, where it was acceptable. In times of peace, it was harder to bear. Turning away from the view, and his feelings, Starscream headed back inside. As he sought refuge in his berth, he dozed off, processer still filled of images of a pair of warm blue optics.

 

**

 

         Starscream wasn’t the first of the group to arise. He had a suspicion that Nebula had won that prize. This suspicion was proven to be correct, as Skywarp began to grip about “that filthy little mutt”. As he and Thundercracker began to argue about Nebula, Starscream took the time to stand. Glancing over at the desk, he felt drawn to it. After sitting in the chair that was in the corner beside the piece of furniture, he picked up a datapad. _Property of Jetfire,_ he read the elegant Cybertronian script etched into the surface. Starscream, after glancing over at the feuding friends to make sure he wasn’t being watched, slipped it into his subspace. It may be unethical, but Starscream felt the urge to get to know this Jetfire. Seeing as the mech wasn’t able to speak to him directly, this datapad, Starscream reasoned with himself, was the closest form of communication between the two. After each of the three Seekers drank some Energon, and Nebula was fed, they headed out.

         Since the streets were rather congested, the trio took to the skies. “Last full solar cycle of training!” Thundercracker chirped. “Ooh, I’m nervous just thinking about tomorrow. That triple flip twirl combination is really gettin to me.”

         “Oh, you got it easy.” Skywarp snapped, clearly still annoyed by Nebula’s existence. “Now, my moves are the difficult ones. Have you s _een_ what I have to do in the second half? Not to mention, I’m the one that’s taking over all of Jetfire’s advanced moves.”

         Thundercracker did a half-sparked loop. “And how about you, Star? Feelin the tingles about our big show?”

         “Should I?” Starscream felt a bit worried at the fact that he w _asn’t w_ orried. After all, in the grand scheme of things, if he fragged up an air show for the High Council, it wouldn’t matter all that much.

         Skywarp would have rolled his optics, had he been in the correct mode to do such a thing. “You’re so pretentious. You’re not even that good, you never flew for the public before, and you’re even lacking the decency of saying you’re nervous! Primus, you’re one smug aft.” Before Starscream could think of the proper words to display his argument, they arrived at the Air Command. Thundercracker pulled Skywarp aside and had another hushed conversation. Ignoring them, Starscream entered the building before the duo.

         The foyer seemed to be more welcoming, than the first time that Starscream entered. Of course, this might have been because of Overflight’s warm smile. “Hello, sir.” The secretary reverted back to the formal pronouns that Starscream had hoped he forgot about. “Did you have an enjoyable evening?”

         “It was rather lovely, yes, thank you for asking.” Starscream could be polite when he wanted to be. It was just that he didn’t really want to, most of the time. As he and Overflight had a chat, Skywarp and Thundercracker burst in through the entranceway. After a hasty goodbye to the assistant, Starscream followed his team-mates to their training space.

         It was still as how they left it the past solar cycle. A small floor space, but its high ceilings gave it plenty of room for aerial stunts. Once they warmed up, using the standard stretching procedures, all conversation was gutted. For the majority of the day, they trained as hard as they could. Regardless of whether Starscream thought it was all an enormous waste of resources, time, and effort, he had to admit that the gumption was rather admirable. Their personalities drained out of them when they performed, a fact that was quite alarming. How could something so vital in one mode, be considered so useless and unneeded in the other? The thought nearly caused Starscream to crash into a wall, so he decided to focus on flying for the moment. Quite a lot of work had went into the devising the routine. Sure, it would have been more impressive if there more than three filers, but still rather refined.

         Once they were lounging around on a break, Starscream took the chance to ask a question that had been nagging at him while they were practicing. “The other solar cycle, you said that while others left, Jetfire always was there…Thundercracker, why did so many others leave the group?” He asked, brimming pede top full with curiosity.

         “I thought I already told ya,” The normally easy-going Thundercracker sounded flustered and more than a bit peeved. “It was just cause of their life development. All perfectly normal.” The answer was a vague one, which only piqued Starscream’s interest in the subject. Something about Thundercracker’s mannerisms seemed off, as well, which did not help his statement of it being normal.

         Skywarp, for once, actually seemed to take Starscream’s side on the matter. “You’re not getting any better at lying, TC. You either tell him, or I’m going to.” When Thundercracker failed to reply, Skywarp decided that it was going to be the latter of two options. “Alright, Mr. Nosy. The main reason all those other mechs-and a couple femmes- left is simply put, because we aren’t exactly that good at what we do. We’re not as polished as the other groups are, and we don’t have the flair that they do. Thundy here hates to admit it, but we’re simply not advancing. That’s probably when Jetfire left too; he was sick and tired of waiting around for something that just isn’t going to happen.”

         Thundercracker slammed a servo on the table the mechs were sitting around. The noise wasn’t a pleasant one, and led Starscream to remember things that he was glad to forget. As he winced, Thundercracker spoke in a low voice. “Skywarp, we do not need this right now. And we talked about this! We are improving, I just know it. It’s gonna…be okay. It has to.” As Thundercracker started at the ground, trying to find the words to say, Starscream leaned back in his seat. Without meaning to, he had lit a fuse. All he had to do was wait and see how large the explosion was going to be.

         Except…he couldn’t just sit there. Sighing at his newly discovered moral compass, Starscream came to the realization that he couldn’t just show up out of nowhere and divide a pair of friends. “Okay,” He said after a long moment had passed. “Why are we performing at the show tomorrow, if we’re not that good? Why would the Air Command even bother supporting this group, if we’re not that good? Did you ever even consider the slight possibility that you are actually doing a good job? Did no one tell you that you are _good_ at what you’re doing?” At the silence that followed his speech, Starscream came to draw the conclusion that they hadn’t. He stood up as he finished his improvised monologue. “Now, we’re either going to sit here feeling sorry for ourselves, or we’re going to train and practice some more, so we can be the best we can possibly be. And I for one, am not in the mood to be self-pitying today. Are you with me or am I going to be doing this whole show by myself?”

         Starscream wasn’t sure he said the right thing at first. He definitely didn’t have that much experience giving a pep talk before, and he didn’t receive them a lot either. But once Thundercracker stood to give him a hug, he understood that whatever he said, it did the trick. As the mech with the strange accent embraced him, Starscream could hear a muffled thank you. Skywarp seemed a little apprehensive, but with a shrug and an “oh frag it”, he joined in the hug. “This is nice and all,” Starscream said, feeling slightly awkward at the position he was in. “But I don’t think we can hug the High Council tomorrow as part of our routine.” A laugh rippled through the group, and Thundercracker swatted him playfully at the joke. The feeling of brotherhood filled the room, and while it was certainly strange and unfamiliar, it also was pleasant and warm. This mood would continue throughout the rest of the training session, and even lingered with on the way home. They chatted about what was to happen the following solar-cycle, most specifically, their performance.

         Nebula was waiting for them, and he got a dose of cuddles from the trio, along with a healthy dose of treats. Just to make Thundercracker happy-it felt wrong when he was sad or angry- Skywarp and Starscream offered up the option of watching the program on organic planets. The look of delight that filled up Thundercracker’s optics was almost worth sitting through what seemed to be eons of organic facts. Nebula couldn’t pick which lap to rest on, so he stretched out on all of them. The evening, although not as exciting as the last, was good in its own way. The simple comfort of being at a place called home, with those who were growing to understand you, was one that Starscream chose to relish.

         Much later, after the program had finished and after a round of Energon was drunk along with the telling of stories about those who were long gone, the three decided it would best to get some rest, before their debut. Starscream felt pleasantly tired as he crawled into his berth that night. He fell into recharge easily, and for the first time since landing on Cybertron, a dream went with it.

         _It was dark._

Any dream that started in darkness was not going to be a good one. But, still desperately clinging to his good mood, Starscream just waited for what was going to appear after the darkness. However, he merely continued to float, suspended in the thick air that was shrouded in a black and deep abyss. The sense of panic began to fall upon his frame. It was too similar to what happened so long ago. Feeling a rush coldness, he glanced down, and saw with dismay, the paint job he held was the one he got rid of just recently.

         Glancing around, he couldn’t see anything, or anyone. “Oh no,” He whispered to himself, hearing the words slip away into the darkness. Even his vocal patterns seemed to be one that he didn’t recognize. Maybe the Sun’s energy charred his voice box. It did a lot of damage, that Sun did. Starscream felt his blaster weigh a heavy weight in his servos. It was a weight he didn’t want to feel, and so, he went to drop it.

         “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A velvety voice called to him out of the void. With a shriek Starscream took a shot, which echoed and faded. As soon as that sound ended, a new one took its place, a deep and powerful laugh. Starscream felt paralyzed as he stood there, shaking ever so slightly. He squeezed his optics shut as Megatron began a new round of torment. Every single comment rubbed salt in Starscream’s closing wounds. _It’s not real, it can’t be real, this can’t be happening._ Starscream tried to console himself, a difficult feat in of itself, made even more difficult with the pressing accusations were making.

         “You’re weak,” The anonymous voice hissed. “You will amount to nothing. Everything you have ever thought was a success was a failure.”

         As Starscream stood there, frozen, being taunted by someone that couldn’t hold a victory long enough to declare, a nerve that was frayed for such a long time finally broke. “You’re right!” He shouted, interrupting Megatron’s description of everything that was wrong with him. “I was spineless, weak, a push over and everything else you’re saying about me. I will not let this happen again. Not again!”

         With that final scream of triumph, Starscream woke up. The moment he entered the waking world, he knew something was the matter. For one thing, all the lights in the apartment were blazing. Another fact to support the argument would the fact that both Skywarp and Thundercracker were staring at him intently. “What?” He groggily sat up. As Starscream reached to rub his optics, he felt streaks of liquid running down his faceplate. He stared at his damp digits with a feeling of disbelief. “Was I… _crying?_ ”

         “I wish that was all you were doing.” Skywarp did his famous move, and rolled his optics. “You were yelling so loud, it was a miracle that Primus didn’t tell you to keep it down!”

         As the memory of the dream came rushing back, so did the uncontrollable tears. Starscream felt ridiculous as he sat there, making noises that sounded like Nebula’s whimpers. Skywarp clearly didn’t know what to do, and Starscream couldn’t blame him. Megatron’s harsh words, although made from Starscream’s very own subconscious, held an awful clinging effect. As Starscream was in daze, feeling so unattached from himself, Thundercracker slipped in. Taking a seat beside Starscream, the blue mech whispered sweet nothings to him. “Come now,” He whispered, taking a soft cloth to clean off the puddles of liquid gathering on his friend’s face plate. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

         Hiccupping out his words, the virtually defenceless Starscream coughed out the basic facts of what his dream of his words. Even in his fragile state, he managed to leave out the more specific details, such as who the who taunting him was, and what he was being taunted about. After the ugly story was out in the open, Starscream was drained. Telling the tale had used up more energy than was in his reverses, after all. Skywarp fetched a cool cube of Energon which Starscream drank with pleasure, feeling just a bit better. “I’m sorry for this. For everything.” He murmured, embarrassed by Thundercracker’s servo, which was holding his own.

         “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, you sweet little dumpling.” Thundercracker’s drawl lulled the exhausted Starscream into a state of thoughtlessness. “Skywarp, could ya push these berths together? I don’t want to let him to recharge alone.”

         After Skywarp combined the three berths in the room to make a single large one, Thundercracker helped Starscream to rest in the middle. For the rest of the night, the Seekers huddled close together, providing a bubble of protection and pure love. Once Starscream did fall back into another recharge, he was pleased to have it be one of pure relaxation. He secretly believed that it was the close contact that did it. Nebula was a bit put off by the situation, but finally settled in a circle, near Starscream’s pedes. The group rested easily for the rest of the night, with each of them contributing to the warmth of the room.

 

**

 

         If the latter half of the night was an image of peaceful sincerity, the moments before their air show was a picture of confusion, complications and conflict. The set up of the show was supposed to be a simple one, with speeches at the beginning and ending, with performances from two flight groups in middle. However, some of the guest speakers failed to arrive, leaving both groups with less time to prepare for their routines. The group which had Turbine as a member also had the grander routine, with over a dozen fliers and various special effects. This did not help with the nerves of the smaller group. Skywarp was pacing, muttering things that had a long list of profanity, Thundercracker was running through the routine panicking whenever he couldn’t remember what came next, and Starscream, although still not very bothered by what the show meant as a whole,  was getting anxious about performing in such a public arena. By the time their group was called, the trio was quivering. “You’ll do great,” Turbine said in a commanding voice, patting Starscream’s wing as he said so.

         The performance did not go off without a hitch. Thundercracker, near the end of the routine, blanked out completely and nearly soared right into Skywarp, who was trying to fill in the dead air. This, in turn, led Starscream to forget his cue for the finale, botching the end of their show. Still, they landed with the audience’s applause, even if it sound a bit forced. The second they were out of the public’s auditory range, Thundercracker began to apologize. Before he could get very far however, Aerial Strike paid them a visit.

         “You didn’t _completely_ tarnish the good name of the Royal Air Command…” Her sentence drifted off, as her optics narrowed slightly. “But if you do not pick up your slack, Thundercracker, you may find yourself out of work. Understand?”

         “Understood, ma’am.” Thundercracker couldn’t look up from his peds, until Skywarp muttered something in his auditory sensor. Looking up at the taller femme, Thundercracker spoke more clearly. “I’m sorry for my mistake, and I will take care not to disappoint you again.”

         Clearly impressed by the confident attitude, Aerial Strike nodded. “Very well. That will be all. Oh, and your payments will be transferred to your accounts promptly. When you receive your next assignment, report to the base. Until then, you’re free to do as you wish.  Dismissed.”

         After a grateful farewell, the exhausted performers exited the area. “That wasn’t as bad as the last one,” Skywarp shrugged. “At least this time no one set an audience member on fire. You know, that’s probably the reason why we weren’t allowed to use projectiles this time around! Oh, that makes so much more sense now.” It was clear that Skywarp was just trying to fill the silence with his chatter, a role that belonged to the now silent Thundercracker. _Their relationship is such a strange one,_ Starscream mused to himself as they walked through the still remaining crowds. Skywarp made cutting remarks to everyone, but the moment Thundercracker needed him, he was there. Tuning out what Skywarp was blabbering about, Starscream glanced at the sky. Their leftover Energon trails were still visible, showing where they all twisted and turned. It was a pretty sight, seeing their temporary legacy mingle with the structures of Vos.

         “Y’all know what we should do?” Thundercracker said suddenly, narrowly cutting off Skywarp’s tangent. “Make some Energon treats!  It’s a special occasion after all, one worth celebrating. Go on home; I’ll just nip by the store to get the supplies. Won’t be a jiffy.” Before either of the mechs could say a word, Thundercracker dashed off, zipping through the crowds.

         A bit stunned at the hasty departure, Skywarp and Starscream walked silently to a clear space, in which they transformed, to take to the skies. “I should have gone.” Skywarp said, in an uncharacteristically meek voice. “After all I can warp there and back, nearly as fast as light.”

         “Maybe Thundercracker wanted to get you a surprise?” Starscream offered as a possible reason. Once Skywarp scoffed, he realized it was a bit far-fetched. They flew together, with the only audible sound being that of their engines, as they whizzed through the air.

         It was only when they were nearing their apartment building that Skywarp made the choice to speak again. “He’s sad. I knew this would happen.” With a sigh, Skywarp made a soft landing, with Starscream beside him. Suddenly, the mech gave a sharp laugh. “I could have warped back there to here! Primus, I’m off my game today.” Starscream didn’t reply when Skywarp fumbled with the lock, or when they entered the apartment. He didn’t reply when Nebula growled happily at him, or when Skywarp stepped on the turbo-fox’s tail.

         When they were resting on the couch, with an injured Nebula hiding under the table, Starscream made the choice to speak. “Why would Thundercracker, if he was sad, choose to make Energon treats?” He asked, absently reaching under the table to give Nebula a pat.

         “You know how you cried while recharging?” Skywarp answered Starscream’s question with one of his own, a very irritating tactic of getting attention away from oneself.

         “I was hoping we could never bring that up again, but yes, I do know about that.”

         Nebula padded out from underneath the table, and leaped onto the couch. “Hey Nebbie. How’s the tail doing?” Skywarp said, petting the turbo-fox’s back. “Well, Thundercracker spills his tears into baking. Typically he bakes for the ones he like, thought he hurt, you know? It’s a sort of apology present. So fragging sad, I know. He just smiles and pretends he’s fine, but he keeps _making_ all sorts of stuff. Even after a round of apologies. The last time it happened, I think it was because he spilled something on one of Jetfire’s diaries. It was tragic. There was treats in this apartments for ages. Horrible, I know. He and Jet finally talked it out, and it was alright after that.”

         “And now it’s happening again.” Starscream said absently, thinking about the datapad he took, still resting deep within his subspace. _So it’s a diary. Helpful._  “Interesting. How are we going to get to stop now?” Before he and Skywarp could discuss the matter further, the subject of their conversation came crashing in.

         Clattering in, with an armload of baking supplies, Thundercracker grinned brightly at them. It was an odd sight, after knowing what the smile was concealing. Starscream couldn’t hide his facial expression for long, or rather, at all. “What’s the matter, Star?” Thundercracker asked. “You look like Nebula ripped your blanket. He didn’t, did he?”

         “No, Nebula’s fine.” Starscream looked at the turbo-fox, whose tail was now wiggling with joy. “If you would excuse me…” Hastily leaving two confused mechs and one very happy turbo-fox in the living room, Starscream went into the berth room. After separating the berths again, and making sure the door was firmly locked and closed, he took out the hidden datapad. Arranging a small pile of pillows to rest in, Starscream began work on hacking the password protected documents. _Thank goodness I still do how to do this,_ He thought graciously, as he tapped away at the weak protection settings. Before long, he broke through the various firewalls, and started to read. Jetfire had left some very interesting reports on his life in Vos, even recounting the time that Nebula got adopted. Apparently, Jetfire loved Nebula dearly, and giving gave him the name. It appeared that before coming back to Cybertron, Jetfire, had for a time visited the place Nebulon, which is where he drew the name, Nebula. _I would adopt all the turbo-foxes on Cybertron if I could, and all the cyber-hounds..._ Jetfire admitted in his journal. _They’re all so cute!_ Jetfire updated his journal very periodically, but as the last entries came to be read, it was noted that the dates were awfully spread apart. The last thing the mech wrote was the simple phrase; _They need me there, more than I want to be here._

The statement would be a hurtful one, had Starscream be close to this Jetfire. Since he was not, he was able to analyze it with an unbiased perspective. After a quick glance into Jetfire’s military records, Starscream deduced that the “they” in Jetfire’s last written words had to be the Autobots. This discovery led to Starscream feeling a bit stunned. For if there were Autobots, there had to be Decepticons to face them. Where there was Decepticons, Megatron, or some form of him, had to be there to lead. “That’s why he didn’t let me go,” Starscream muttered. “He needs another second in command.” It was no question as to why Megatron would want Starscream, of all the options. After all, Starscream did fly straight into an Energon sun for his leader. As Starscream was wondering when Megatron would make his move, a loud knock sounded.

         “Oi! Open the door will you?” Skywarp’s voice, even muffled, still sounded muffled. “What are you even _doing_ in there?”

         Unlocking and opening the door, after making sure the datapad was in its original position on the desk, Starscream answered the question simply. “Reading.”

         Skywarp forced himself inside. After making sure all was in all was in order, he made his standard rude remark. “Darn. If you were jacking off, I would have won fifty credits. Thundercracker and I placed a little bet you see. At least you weren’t crying again. Had you, I would have been out those fifty credits. You win some, you lose some.”

         “If you mention me crying just one more time, I will personally shatter your optics and ingest the remains.” Starscream was getting more than a little vexed at Skywarp’s constant cut downs. Although he did have to admit that the mech was rather clever to think of them so fast. Turning away from Skywarp’s wounded yet slightly impressed expression, Starscream smoothed out his sheets. “Now,” Starscream said as crisply as the blankets he sat on. “Was there something you needed from me?”

         Recovering from the unexpected insult, Skywarp reached into his subspace. “Yeah, TC wanted to give you this before our show, but he forgot. Catch.” With his reflexes being in a rusty place, the object hit Starscream’s leg and bounced off, onto the floor. Ignoring the snickers that Skywarp made, he picked up the object. It was made out of a smooth synthetic material, light brown in colour, and fashioned into the rough shape of a turbo-fox. Starscream lightly touched one of the metal orbs used for the creature’s “optics”. As he squeezed the object, he concluded that the object was also filled with the orbs.

         “What is it even used for?” Starscream asked, curiously lifting up the object’s tail. “Is it some sort of mechanism or device?”

         Skywarp laughed, in a musical sort of way, instead of the harsh tone Starscream was used to hearing. “No silly. Jeez. It’s a comfort object. You know, something to hold when you’re anxious or whatever. It was Thundercracker’s idea, so if you hate it, blame him not me. After…what happened, he thought you could use it. Apparently the thing’s name is Mr. Stuffles, if you wanted to name it. You can still recharge with us you need to, but please don’t. Your wings are so _twitchy._ Anyway, there you go.”

         Holding Mr. Stuffles to his chassis, Starscream nodded. “It’s sort of cute, I suppose. A portable version of Nebula.” Tucking it into the berth’s sheets, Starscream gave it a tender pat. “I’ll have to thank Thundercracker then.” Before Skywarp could say anything in reply, Starscream crossed the room, and exited.

         He found Thundercracker busily baking in the kitchen. “Thanks for… Mr. Stuffles.” Starscream said, leaning against the countertop, causing Thundercracker to turn away from his work in surprise.’

         “Whew!” The blue mech sighed with relief. “I was afraid you would hate it, and fling it out the window or somethin. I’m glad you like it.” Before Starscream could ask about the creature’s origins and make, a beeping sound shrieked. Starscream glanced around the space as Thundercracker busied himself with his tray of treats. Although it was like all other spaces in the apartment, tiny, the area had its own charm to it. From the stains on the ceiling to the chipped flooring tiles, it was clear that someone had loved the space very much.

         As Thundercracker proudly showed off the array of goods, Skywarp came into the room. “Those look nice. Not as nice as you look though,” He said the last part with a wink, causing Thundercracker to give a small giggle. The three mechs sat to polish off the freshly made treats, with Nebula taking a position just underpede, waiting for any handouts.

         “Are they…supposed to fall apart like this?” Starscream asked, holding up a flaking treat. Once Skywarp shot him a dirty look, he realized that probably wasn’t the best thing to say at the time. Sure enough, Thundercracker’s cheerful façade began to crumble, not unlike the Energon treats he made.

         “I…must forgot to add the stiffening agent.” Thundercracker sniffed, prodding at the fallen treats still on the tray. “Sorry, y’all. I can’t even make treats right.”

         “No.” Skywarp stated the word firmly. “Don’t dare do this to yourself. You are better than what you’re always thinking. You are one of the only mechs to ever be so nice to me. Which, as my personality traits are not very pleasant to deal with, is a feat in and of itself. Thundercracker, you mean so much, to so many. You’re kind, funny, gracious, passionate, loving…a real role model. So, before I make a bigger fool of myself by being such a sap, I just…want to say that I love you, my amica.” As Skywarp and Thundercracker got himself into a complex and tear filled hug, Starscream excused himself from the situation.

         Once again, sitting alone on his berth, with the door open this time, Starscream sighed. Grasping Mr. Stuffles to hold, he worried if he really was to be alone. He didn’t have an amica endura after all, yet alone a conjunx. If he had the capacity to think about this before he came to Cybertron, he might have laughed and say that he was better off. After all, as he kept reminding himself, there was no point in getting involved with someone when there was a high possibility of death. But now that he saw the intense, loving relationship that Thundercracker and Skywarp, Starscream couldn’t help but wonder if he really was that unlovable. A picture of Solenoid came into his processer, but he merely considered that to be a fluke of sorts. “It’s just me and you, Mr. Stuffles.” He sighed, squeezing the object’s middle. Starscream moped for quite a while, and was in the process of elevating every single choice he made, when Thundercracker stuck his helm into the room.

         “Ey Star.” He said with a smile that appeared to be genuine.  “I’m heading down to the wash-racks; do you wanna come with me?”

         “No thanks.” Starscream said, fiddling with the legs of Mr. Stuffles. He wasn’t trying to be anti-social. His finish was still in a pretty decent condition after all, since Emberart only changed it four solarcycles ago.

         Thundercracker nodded in understanding. _He really does bounce quickly, doesn’t he?_ Starscream’s thoughts observed. “Well, I’ll just be down the hall if you need me.” Not too long after Thundercracker left the doorway, Skywarp showed up.

         “Ey, slagger.” He said gruffly, perhaps to negate his displays of affection earlier. “I got a date with a mech. If he’s a good one, I’ll be back tomorrow. If he isn’t, I’ll probably be back sooner than that. If Nebula starts whining, don’t believe him. I just fed that beast, so don’t give him any more.” Starscream started to reply, but got cut off by the slamming of the front door.

         Suddenly filled with the need to explore, Starscream poked around the apartment’s media sources. He was surprised to find some datapads on the subject of space, more specifically, the nature and habits of black holes. Starscream didn’t think that Thundercracker or Skywarp would be interested in such matters, and thus he concluded that it must have belonged to Jetfire. Settling on the couch, with Nebula resting beside him, Starscream began to read the content. It was nothing advanced, as he recalled most of the information from his prior training, but it was a delight to find something that called to his interests. As he was reading, Thundercracker came in, still damp from his shower. Seeing how engrossed his friend was in his material, the blue mech simply began to tidy the remains of the failed Energon treats. Starscream had read most of the content when he noticed that some had made various notes in the margins. Squinting at the small writing, he deciphered a comment _. Interesting. Tell OP about this. Poss. Uni_. Re-reading the sentence the note, a cold shiver went down Starscream’s nerves. The sentence stated the following; “In the event a large amount of energy is dispelled from the universe, the energy may be converted into a black hole.” Setting the datapad down on the table, Starscream had a sinking feeling that he knew why Jetfire left, and how it was connected to Megatron. Looking at Thundercracker, who was organizing, he debated telling him the truth. All of it. But, as Starscream observed the now cheerful mech who was emptying out the Energon converter’s waste, he realized he couldn’t. _There was no way he could understand all this,_ Starscream thought to himself, moving to an upright position. _I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell him about Jetfire._

         As Starscream came to these sinking conclusions, the front door of the apartment banged open again. With it, a very angry Skywarp came, slamming it closed behind him. Nebula whimpered and rubbed his helm against Starscream’s leg. “Did the date not go well?” Thundercracker sounded worried, as he wiped his servos on a cloth.

         “It didn’t!” Skywarp snapped. “I can’t believe it. I totally thought I found the one too. All I said was that they would look better if they buffed their finish and the next thing I knew I’m dripping with their drink!”

         Not able to resist the urge, Starscream broke into a quiet laughing fit, which he swiftly disguised with a cough. “Oh my. What the problem,” He smiled, a bit sadly, behind his closed fist as Skywarp groaned with frustration.

         Later that night, after Skywarp was soothed, and Nebula fed for the evening, Starscream stared at the ceiling. If what he thought was true, Cybertron was in an immense amount of trouble, and there was little he could do to stop it. Sure, he could try and find exactly where Jetfire went, and join the Autobots…but that meant joining the Autobots. That was a step Starscream didn’t want to think about however. There was another choice of course, but Starscream didn’t think he could be ready to make that either. Clutching Mr. Stuffles close, he squeezed his optics close, hoping desperately that his thoughts were wrong. He hoped, wished, and prayed, to a being that wasn’t even listening, that he was wrong. For once in Starscream’s life, he wanted to be wrong. The recharge he ended up falling into was one of the anxious thoughts that haunted him still, but there were no nightmares.

 

**

 

         The following day passed by as normally as it could, given the information Starscream now held. Their payments came in, and while he was pleased that he now was the proud owner of a thousand and forty credits, it didn’t seem quite right. Starscream did feel a small dose of joy when he realized he could now go back to Emberart and get a proper frame upgrade to match his paint job. The small stylist was just as thrilled as he was to meet him again, and the two had a pleasant conversation about what happened. Emberart shyly admitted that he saw the air show, and shared his dose of compliments about the performance. The end result of the upgrade was a bulkier frame than before, and although Starscream would miss his sleeker appearance, he knew it was necessary. He swiftly paid, and waved goodbye to Emberart, who was as sweet as ever.

         “Holy moly, that’s a look!” Thundercracker remarked, standing up from where he was sitting in the waiting room. “You look great, Star!”

         Skywarp, as always, was less cheerful about it. “You sure that thing is aerodynamic?” He carefully prodded at Starscream’s new, thicker wings. “Honestly, it looks like you’re going off to fight some criminals than fly for a show.”

         “I can still fly, Skywarp.” Starscream assured his wary team-mate. _He couldn’t know, could he? No. No, there was no way he could._ To prove that he was alright, he led the way outside the salon, and promptly took his form. Judging from Skywarp’s lack of a comment, Starscream figured that he didn’t look too shabby after all. They flew home; talking like everything was the same. Which it should have been. Although, when they entered their apartment, and Nebula welcomed them, Starscream knew that he couldn’t live like this anymore. Not while he knew what was coming for Cybertron. Not when he knew he could try and stop it. So, he excused himself to the hallway, and made one last comm before hand.

         :Hello? Who’s speaking, please?: Solenoid answered at once, relieving Starscream’s fear that he was in a class, or at work.

         Resting on the wall, Starscream spoke softly, to the mech he could have grown to love, had life permitted. :It’s Starscream.:

         :Oh! I was wondering if you would comm…how are you?:

         :I’m well. Listen, Solenoid, do you promise not to give up your dream, of uniting Cybertron?:

         Solenoid, thankfully didn’t bother asking questions, and instead answered in a simple yet serious tone. :I will never give up, until it happens.:

         :Thank you. For that, and the night we had. I have to go, and to be honest, I will most likely never speak to you again. But please, keep working at your dream:

         :I’ll look at the stars whenever I think of you, Starscream: Solenoid respectfully ended the comm there, instead of making the other party do it.

         With a deep and shuddering sigh of regret, Starscream made another call, using the frequency, and all the courage he had stored. :Megatron. Meet me at the Black Pyramid in Kaon, as soon as possible. I know what’s coming.: Without waiting for the reply, Starscream ended the comm, and left the building to pay Kaon a visit. _It’s time._

         He didn’t have any idea what he was going to say, or do, if Megatron did or did not arrive. Starscream followed the most direct route from Vos to Kaon, hoping that he would be the first out of the two to arrive. This hope was quickly snuffed out, when he spotted Megatron among the milling crowds outside the Black Pyramid. Sure enough, Megatron too adopted a new appearance, but the smirk was still recognizable. Starscream sent another wish to Primus, before walking to the waiting mech.

         Megatron didn’t say anything as Starscream stood a little ways away from him. _Does…he not recognize me?_ Starscream thought in awe as the one that caused so many so much suffering stood there. “What are you looking at?” Megatron’s voice was slightly changed, but the overall sense of cruelty was still in place.

         “The face-plate of the one I was foolish enough to call my leader.” The remark came out of thin air, it seemed, or rather, from a long, hard, and grueling experience. It worked as a shock value, and Starscream got to enjoy Megatron’s surprised expression, even if it was gone when Starscream blinked.

         “Well, well, well.” Megatron stood up to his full height. “Someone clearly got an attitude adjustment along with their frame upgrade. Although, I should have know from the comm you gave me. You’re not the same, are you?”

         “I’m not!” Anguish and anger were bubbling to Starscream’s surface, and it was all that he could manage not strike the smug mech’s faceplate. “I remember everything. That includes everything that you ever did to me. And, I know what’s coming, _and_ I know that Optimus Prime is going to lead the Autobots to stop it!”

         Megatron didn’t look impressed. But then again, he might have just been a decent actor. “You were quite busy, now weren’t you. I suppose you have come to ask me to become my second in command? After all you need me, to be your savior.”

         Starscream’s laugh was one that Skywarp would have been proud of. It was harsh, grating, and anything but pleasant. “Yeah right. I don’t need you, but you do need me.”

         “You’re incorrect,” Megatron’s flat tone made Starscream question for a moment whether he was really wrong. “Much like always, you don’t have the faintest idea about anything, do you?”

         “I do know what’s happening. Didn’t you say something along the lines of; “I will not rest until I have made you regret what you have done”? Admit it, Megatron. You need me to be your second in command, merely so you can have something to pummel, and blame if one of your ideas goes wrong. _You’re_ the weak one, not me.” Starscream was shaking, but he was standing his ground. That was a feeling that he could grow to like. The lack of a reply should have been a warning sign, but Starscream failed to realize it until it was too late. Megatron had taken a piece of scrap metal, and struck Starscream to a state of unconsciousness.

         The first thing Starscream saw when he woke, was Megatron’s faux concerned expression. “What…” He murmured, trying to gain his bearings.

         “Shush, shush, it’s alright.” Megatron said, in a soothing tone. “Everything will be alright, I promise. But, Starscream, you must tell me something. Do you remember anything?”

         Woozily, the Seeker pressed a servo to his aching helm, as he struggled to sit up. “I…can recall the Energon sun, and after that, when it went black, and then I woke up here.” Suddenly grasping Megatron’s middle, Starscream quietly sniffed, as if he was holding back tears.

         “Don’t worry; I’m here for you now.” Wiping away the welling tears in Starscream’s optic, Megatron smiled. “Are you feeling alright?”

         Pulling back from the embrace, Starscream nodded. “My processer hurts a little, but that is to be expected…” He trailed off, as he studied his own arm. “Did the Sun do this as well? This….upgrade?”

         “Er, yes.” Megatron said quickly. “As it did for me. Clearly, it’s a sign that we are supposed to command the Decepticons again. Could you wait here, for a mega-cycle or two? I have a few things that still attending to.”

         With a comforting pat on Starscream’s helm, Megatron took flight, swiftly leaving the scene. When he was just a blip on the horizon, Starscream stood up, and sneered. “He still has scrap for a processer.” _Megatron isn’t going to get rid of these memories so easily,_ he thought, shoving his way through the crowd. He could remember everything that happened, from waking up and running away, to meeting Emberart, Catherdralian, Overflight, Aerial Strike, Thundercracker, Skywarp, Nebula, and Solenoid. Starscream remembered everything that he had accomplished over the past few solar-cycles. Did Megatron s _eriously_ think he could get rid of all of those with a mere blow to the helm? All Starscream had was a splitting processer-ache, a taste for revenge, and apparently, not too shabby acting abilities.

         “Watch where you’re going!” A larger mech growled as Starscream brushed past him.

         “Oh,  just bite me.” Starscream snapped as he pushed past the mech. He walked briskly; he couldn’t risk being in the same flight space as Megatron, after all. Starscream knew he shouldn’t bother, after all the chance of getting caught was far too high. But he knew, deep within his spark, that if he left Cybertron without saying goodbye to the two mechs, and turbo-fox, that had given him sure a secure and welcome stay, he would never forgive him. After a fairly long walk, Starscream arrived at the apartment, only slightly wishing that that blow to the helm offlined him.

         “Where have you been?” Thundercracker flung open the door. “I got Skywarp scouring the city for you! Come in, you naughty mech.”

         Exhausted, Starscream merely nodded, and obliged the request. “Listen, Thundercracker. I know we don’t know each other very well, but I just came to say that your hospitality was a gift that I am quite grateful for. But I have to go somewhere now, and I’m not going to be able to keep in contact with you, or Skywarp.”

         To say that Thundercracker looked a bit sad would be a gross understatement. “It’s just like Jetfire, all over again. Wait for a kilk; does this have something to do with Jetfire?” After a moment where Starscream didn’t reply, Thundercracker made a sound that would put Nebula’s whining to shame. “I knew it! And I’m coming with you.”

         “Not a chance.” Starscream said flatly. “I don’t have the time to argue with you, or explain why, but you may _not_ come with me.”

         Thundercracker shrugged. “Ya either are going to take me with you, or I’m gonna follow you. The choice is yours.” With a sigh, Starscream pushed his way into the empty berth room. Both he and Thundercracker left a note for Skywarp, briefly telling him where they went. By the time Skywarp got back, he only found two apologetic notes scrawled in a messy Cybertronian script, a ball painted to look like Cybertron, and Mr. Stuffles. As he sank to the floor in disbelief, a sad Nebula padded by, and crawled onto his lap.

         “How could they do this…” Skywarp muttered to himself. He wouldn’t receive the answer to his question, for a very long while.

         Before Skywarp came home, and after they left the notes, Thundercracker and Starscream left the apartment. They were walking, not together, but with Thundercracker a good ten strides behind Starscream. Just before they neared the Black Pyramid, Starscream hissed some final instructions to Thundercracker. “You can’t mention anything.” He whispered urgently. “You can’t talk about Skywarp, your life here, or, and this is the most important thing, you cannot talk about meeting me.”

         “I have to pretend we never met?” Thundercracker said, sounding sceptical.

         “Or you could just go home!” Keeping an optic out for Megatron, Starscream pushed his friend into an abandoned building. “Wait here, until you see someone talking to me. Then you have to say something all the lines of you always looked up to him or something. Just try and get him to take you with us. Got it?” Thundercracker nodded, a bit fearfully, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening.

         _Trust me, TC,_ Starscream thought as he rushed back to the spot outside the Black Pyramid. _I feel the exact same way._ They had to wait another half mega-cycle or so, but Megatron had delivered on his promise, a rare feat. As Starscream made small talk with the Decepticon leader, Thundercracker, although a bit tenderly, stepped out of the shadows.

         “I heard about your work,” Thundercracker talked like he couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “And I would also like to be part of your team.”

         Megatron seemed rather pleased, much to the scheming Seekers’ relief. “Oh, a fan! You must tell me, what siege of mine is your favorite?”

         As Starscream tried to keep himself from groaning out loud in despair, Thundercracker stammered out an improvised answer. “Oh, golly, they were all so…incredible. The one with that legendary weapon though, have to call that one my favorite. I do have a thing for those weapons of epic destruction, and you yielded it so well.”

         The answer was just vague enough, along with just enough flattery, to get Thundercracker some points in Megatron’s favor. The warlord laughed, and clapped Thundercracker on the arm. “We could always use another mech with good weapons know how! Welcome to the team.” As he and Thundercracker talked about more specific details, Starscream let out a heavy sigh.

         “Everything alright, Starscream?” Megatron asked, turning his helm. There was still a suspicious   look in his optics, which was to be expected, considering the odd situation before him.

         Doing his best to present a calm, loyal and lawful expression, Starscream spoke carefully. “Of course, sir. Everything’s perfectly fine.” Content with the positive, if not a little bland answer, Megatron turned away from Starscream, to discuss more important matters with Thundercracker.

         As the larger mech turned his back, Starscream narrowed his optics in a form of silent outrage.

         _I’m no longer a weakling, Megatron. I will have my revenge._

        

        

        

               

 

 


End file.
